


Weather Girl

by remakemyday



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble, F/M, angst for breakfast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 14:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14450799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remakemyday/pseuds/remakemyday
Summary: “Good morning, everyone! E-Especially to my husband, Kei-chan. Don’t forget to eat your breakfast today! It’s the longest day of the year and the temperature…”





	Weather Girl

Despite the lack of light in the apartment, no one forgot to pay the electric bill. The flickering screen of the TV reaffirms this.

_“Good morning, everyone! Today, we are going to have a beautiful sunny day…”_

His eyes are trained on her lips. She’s smiling so wonderfully, it’s infectious. He smiles a little, his eyes tired and heavy. “Wrong,” he mutters softly.

A rumbling thunder shakes the building, but he’s already fallen asleep.

 

_“It’s a fine Friday morning, but don’t forget to bring your umbrella! There’s a 70% chance of rain this afternoon…”_

He hears her voice and slowly, he opens his eyes. He can already feel the knots on his neck. He tries not to move so suddenly.

He grabs his phone from the coffee table and checks the day.

It’s Friday.

At least this time, she got it right.

He finds it’s already noon so he picks himself up from the couch, massaging the crick in his neck. He needs to eat at least. His stomach grumbles and agrees.

He goes to the kitchen and grabs on of the flavored cup noodles, not really looking. He ends up picking her favorite and though it bothers him, he thinks it would be a waste to just chuck it in the bin. He’s already opened it and everything.

His wife’s picture smiles at him from the countertop.

He thinks he should probably refer to her as his ex—something about a healthy mindset and… what was it? He can’t remember the exact words his brother used. He doesn’t want to. It doesn’t matter anyway, he thinks. _Nothing matters._

 

Just after he poured hot water into the noodles, someone rings at the door. He knows it’s Akiteru through the patient intervals between rings.

He glances at his noodles and swears on the man’s life that if they end up soggy, the aforementioned will be sacrificed to the gods in exchange for the restoration of his noodles’ integrity.

He opens the door, doesn’t bother to invite his brother in.

Akiteru brought some food with him. Actual food.

The younger sibling glares at the package stubbornly. He doesn’t need help getting food. He can feed himself fine, thank you very much.

The faint sound of the TV isn’t lost to the unwelcome visitor.

“You’re watching these again, Kei?” He picks up the remote and clicks the stop button, as if to make a point.

_You’re fine. You’re fine without her._

Kei scowls at his older brother. He doesn’t really need him telling him anything. ‘Go fuck yourself’ was what he wanted to say, but instead, he asks, “Why are you here?”

“I’m seeing her later,” Akiteru replies slowly, carefully regarding the other for his subtler reactions.

Tsukishima Kei successfully resists he urge to throttle his brother. “I’m busy,” he says before he digs in. The noodles were soggy.

“I see,” Akiteru mumbles—not really seeing it. He starts to wash the dishes in the sink. There were only a few, but it failed to give him comfort. “I’m bringing her flowers.”

Kei doesn’t respond conspicuously. The slight ascent of his chin, however, tells his brother all that needs to be known.

“You know what she likes?”

Of course. Of course, he knows. Akiteru sees something in his eyes and he feels a small stab of guilt.

“Baby’s breath,” Kei finally says. He contemplates if he can still sacrifice his brother. Maybe the gods will consider fixing other things in his life now that he’s consumed the blasted noodles with little complaint.

 

Akiteru came to see her alone again. He brought with him a bouquet of baby’s breath. He thinks it suits her beautifully. He thinks, this must be how his brother imagines her: eternally sleeping, crowned with a wreath of baby’s breath.

“Hey, Hitoka,” he says to no one in particular.

The marker reads: ‘Beloved by family and friends.’ He thinks his brother deserved a word in there at least. He was a husband. He still is.

“You think you can give Kei a hug in his sleep?” There’s no reply. He doesn’t expect any.

He wishes so badly for his younger brother to get better, but how do you move on from someone who never really left?

 

_“Good morning, everyone! E-Especially to my husband, Kei-chan. Don’t forget to eat your breakfast today! It’s the longest day of the year and the temperature…”_


End file.
